Spirit Animals - The Eight Fallen (Book 1) Wild Born (ON HOLD)
by EliTheEagleOwl
Summary: Conor, Chase, Abeke, Azibo, Meilin, Meiko, Rollan, and Ryklin each see a flash of light . . . and then the animals emerge. Wolf, reindeer, leopard, hippo, panda, scorpion, gyrfalcon, snowy owl. What if the four fallen all had twins?
1. Chapter 1 - Briggan and Milja

Although it was painfully obvious, Chase tried to ignore the resentment pooling off his brother as they assisted Devin Trunswick in getting dressed. To be honest, both boys would rather do anything else.

But - as they had been told multiple times - Devin was the eldest son of Eric, the Earl Of Trunswick, and Chase and Conor were the third - twin - sons of Fenray, Herder of sheep. Their father had incurred debts to the Earl, and the twins were helping to work them off as servants to Devin. It was horrendous, but it had begun over a year ago. According to both their parents, it was set to last at least two more.

Chase knew that - while he held the garment in place - Conor had to hook each clasp on the back of the coat correctly, or it would hang strangely - crooked perhaps. Devin would hear about it for weeks, and the twins would be at his wrath. Again. Now, the fine material was way more decorative than needed. Both boys had said that - if the blessing came and Devin was caught in a storm with such a garment on - he would wish for something much heavier and . . . well . . . warm.

"Are you done fussing around back there?" Devin asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Sorry for the delay, milord," Conor replied, with a look at Chase. "There are forty-eight clasps. I'm just now linking the fortieth."

"How many more days will this take? I'm about to die of old age! Are you just inventing numbers?"

Chase resisted a sharp reply. Having grown up counting sheep and chickens, he and Conor probably knew their numbers better than Devin. But Conor always said that arguing with a noble caused more trouble than it was worth. Sometimes Devin seemed to deliberately tempt them. "It's my best guess."

The door flew open and Dawson, Devin's younger brother, burst into the room, followed by his younger twin, Delmira. "Are you still getting dressed, Devin?"

"Don't blame me," Devin said, glancing at Chase. "Conor keeps napping."

The twin servants only gave the Earl's twins a brief look. Conor rolled his eyes, and Chase gave an exasperated sigh. How much longer would this take? He wanted to be ready for his Ceremony, too.

"How could Conor fall asleep?" Dawson asked, chuckling lightly. "Everything you say, brother, is so interesting."

Delmira nudged him. "Devin probably spoke so long that Conor dozed off for a moment." She stepped toward the blonde boy and poked him. "He doesn't look asleep to me."

Chase chuckled and watched as Conor tried not to smile. Dawson hardly ever stopped talking, which was annoying at times, but also funny. Delmira seemed to be the quieter of the bunch, often trailing behind her brother despite being older.

"Aren't you done yet?" Devin complained to Conor, jolting Chase back into the reality. "How many are left?"

Chase rolled his eyes as his younger twin spoke in an irritated tone. "Five."

"Think you'll summon a spirit animal, Devin?" Dawson asked.

"I don't see why not," Devin responded lightly. "Grandfather called a mongoose. Father produced a lynx."

Today was the Trunswick Nectar Ceremony. In less than an hour, the local children who turned eleven this month would each try to call a spirit animal. Chase knew that some families would call spirit animals more than other. Even so, calling a spirit animal was never guaranteed, no matter what your family name. It was a truly a quest for worthiness, as only the worthy could call a spirit animals. There were only four kids scheduled to drink the Nectar this month, and the odds were against any of them succeeding. It was certainly nothing to boast about before it happened. A snotty noble could definitely not be worthy.  
"What animal do you think you'll get?" Dawson wondered.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Devin said. "What do you expect?"

"A chipmunk," Dawson predicted.

Delmira bounced a little. "A fish!"

Devin lunged at his little siblings, who scampered away, giggling. Dawson and Delmira were not dressed as formally as their older brother, which allowed them both freer movement. Still, Devin soon caught them and tackled them to the floor, pinning them down.

"A bear would be more likely," Devin said, grinding his elbow into his brother's chest while poking his sister in between the eyes. "Or a wildcat, like Father. First thing I'll do is have it taste you two."

Chase rolled his eyes and leaned back, watching this exchange with boredom. He noticed that Conor was trying his hardest to remain patient, but years of living with him showed Chase the little signs of his brother's irritation - his twitching fingers, the clenched teeth.

"You might get nothing," Dawson suddenly deadpanned.

Delmira nodded. "True! What if you don't call anything?"

"Then all I'll be is Earl of Trunswick," Devin responded. "And your master."

"Not if Father outlives you." Dawson hissed bravely.

Devin growled. "I'd mind my tongue, second set."

"I'm glad I'm not you!" Delmira shouted.

Devin twisted Dawson and Delmira's noses until both yelped in pain. Then the insufferable noble stood up, brushing off his trousers. "At least my nose isn't sore."

"Conor and Chase will drink the Nectar too!" Dawson cried out, startling the twins. "Maybe one of them will calla spirit animal!"

Chase gave a wistful sigh as Conor flinched. He knew that his brother hoped to call something just as much as the boy himself hoped. It couldn't be helped. Nobody - however - had called a spirit animal in the Fenray family since decades. Didn't mean one couldn't hope, though.

"Right." Devin snorted. "And I suppose the smith's daughter will summon one as well."

"You never know." Dawson countered, sitting up and rubbing his nose. "Conor, what would you like to have?"  
Chase watched Conor stare at the floor in discomfort before replying in the meek tone both had come to use when speaking. "I've always gotten on well with dogs. I'd like a sheepdog, I guess."

Delmira poked Chase. "And you? Anything of particular interest?"

Chase looked down at the small girl and smiled weakly. "I've taken care of deer for years - so perhaps a doe."

"What a pair of imaginations!" Devin sneered. "The sheepherder and the deerkeeper dream of calling a sheepdog and a doe."

"A dog would be fun." Dawson defended Conor.

Delmira tightened her grip on Chase. "And a deer would be lovely."

"And common," Devin countered. "How many dogs do you have, Conor? Chase? How many deer?"

"Our family?" Conor thought for a moment. "Ten last I counted,"

Chase replied immediately after. "Ten does and twelve bucks."

"How long since you've seen your family?" Delmira asked.

Chase heard his brother's tight tone. "More than half a year."

"They'll be there today?" Dawson tilted his head to the side.

"We expect they'll try," Conor said with a sad glance at Chase. "It depends on whether they can get away."

"How novel for you." Devin sniffed scornfully. "How many clasps remain?"

"Three." Chase offered for Conor.

Devin turned to Chase, his back toward Conor to allow the younger twin to finish. "Let's not dawdle. We're running late."

* * *

A huge crowd had gathered in the square by the time the three children had made it there. Chase knew that it wasn't every day that the son of a practical-King sipped for his spirit animal, and he saw from his green eyes that commoners and nobles alike had come for the event - old, young, middle aged. He heard music playing, watched soldiers walked about the square, and smelled the delicious scent of candied nuts. A grandstand has been set up for the highest noble family - the Earls - and Chase felt like it was a party rather than a sacred ritual.

Chase and Conor had attended only a few Nectar ceremonies. Neither had ever witnessed the calling of a spirit animal, but several had been summoned in this very square during the course of their life. However, there had been little display at the ceremonies both twins had attended. None had been so well visited. And none had held this many animals.

It was a known belief that bringing together a selection of animals raised the chances of calling a spirit animal. If this was truly the case, Devin might have some luck after all. There were many domesticated animals attending this afternoon, and also many exotic ones. Chase observed the crates filled with birds that wore the brightest plumage he had ever seen, corrals with many animals with hooves, several wildcats that hissed and clawed at their cages, a trio of badgers that paced angrily in their pen, and a black bear pulling at its chain. Chase even glimpsed a camel - a beast he had only heard about in stories.

As he and Conor walked toward the middle of the square, the hundreds of people made him stand taller. As the exact opposite of his brother, Chase liked to be watched. While Conor was small and scrawny - not yet hitting puberty - Chase had acquired a nice tan to his once-pale skin. His green eyes always sparkled according to even Devin, and muscles had built up from his last year of working. He believed he was actually taller than his oldest brother now. Wrapping his arm around his self-conscious little twin to comfort him, he remembered that most eyes were fixed on Devin.

An elbow connected with his side, and Chase turned to his twin. Conor pointed to a set of hands waving in the crowd. Their mother. Beside her stood their elder brothers with their father. Soldier, Conor's favorite dog, and Pearl, Chase's favorite doe, were also there, and the boys both smiled happily.

All had made it. At the sight of his family, Chase's fear diminished and awoke instead a longing for home - meadows to run through, brooks to skip stones within, forests to wander. Work had been spent outdoors - fixing fences, nursing foals, feeding deer. The home hadn't been very big, but it had been home. He and Conor waved at their family.

Devin lead them to a bench in the center of the square, where the smith's daughter, Abby, waited for them. She sat still, looking rather overwhelmed, dressed in a nice dress that was covered in white flowers. Chase offered her a small smile.

Two Greencloaks stood before the bench Abby was sitting on, and Chase recognized the female as Trunswick's personal greencloak, Isilla. On her shoulder was her spirit animal, a goldfinch named Frida. Chase knew that Isilla was the main member of the Marked to administer Nectar in this town, as she had given it to both of his older brothers some years back.

However, the other Greencloak was a mystery, very tall, lean, with wide shoulders and weathered facial features to match his worn cloak. His dark skin represented a different nationality - possibly that of Nilo or Zhong. Chase couldn't see his spirit animal, but a smidgen of the tattoo his arm caught the young boy's eye. Seeing this cause Chase's heart to lighten, as that meant the stranger's spirit animal was passive - a tattoo.

As they approached, Abby stood and curtsied to Devin. The noble sat down and motioned for Chase and Conor to do the same.

Once seated, Chase watched Isilla raise her hands up to silence the crowd. The strange Greencloak backed away, leaving her in the center. He stood silently off to the side, watching intently, and Chase wonder why he was here if he was just going to watch.

"Hear ye, hear ye, good people of Trunswick!" Isilla cried, her voice carrying across the town. "Before the eyes of man and beast, we are gathered here today to participate in the most sacred rite in all of Erdas. When human and animal unite, their greatness is multiplied. We have come to witness whether the Nectar will reveal such greatness in any of these three candidates - Lord Devin Trunswick; Abby, daughter of Grall; Chase, son of Fenray; and Conor, son of Fenray."

Chase barely heard his name as the crowd roared for Devin. He winced, and then felt envious that his brother managed to remain silent and still, staring straight ahead. The boy guessed he was thinking about the event - how Devin had the best chance of all of them.

"Devin Trunswick, come forward." Isilla announced as she uncapped the flask.

The crowd roared as the noble approached, only silencing once Isilla firmly put a finger to her lips. Chase watched, transfixed, as Devin knelt before her. Euran nobles only knelt to nobles greater than them. Greencloaks knelt to no one.

"Receive the Nectar of Ninani."

Chase leaned forward, an uncontrollable amount of excitement coursing through his body as Devin sipped delicately. He had never seen a spirit animal called from the unknown, and with all of the animals around them, Devin surely wouldn't fail.

Would he?

The swallow told Chase that the moment of truth had arrived. A silence fell over the entire square as Devin closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky.

A moment passed.

Somebody coughed from the crowd as nothing happened. Devin opened one eyes and glanced around, shocked.

Chase knew that a spirit animal either came right after the ceremonial sip, or it didn't come at all. He watched Devin stand from his kneeling position and turn in a full circle, eyes smoldering. There was no animal near him.

Isilla paused, raising her eyes to the grandstand. Chase looked up as well, seeing the earl's grim expression and his sleeping lynx nearby.

Then the Greencloak glanced at the mystery man, who nodded slightly.

"Thank you, Devin." Isilla finally spoke. "Abby, daughter of Grall, come forward."

Chase watched Devin return to his seat with a blank stare and a hunched posture, showing his humiliation.

Abby drank the Nectar, and nothing appeared. This was to be expected by everyone, and she returned to the bench without a hint of disappointment.

"Chase, son of Fenray come forward."

It was in that moment - when he heard his name - that Chase felt anxiety well up in his gut. He stood, eyes cast downward, and walked up to Isilla, who offered a smile at the shy boy. Chase kneeled in a similar way Devin and Abby had done before, feeling uneasiness worm into his skin. He doubted he had a chance to call his very own spirit animal, but his hopes had grown now that Devin hadn't called anything.

"Receive the Nectar of Ninani."

Chase took a deep breath and leaned forward, taking a sip of the sweet liquid offered to him. The taste was semi-sweet, almost like caramel apples, and it ran down his throat smoothly.

Isilla took the flask away and waited. Chase rose to his feet, ready to return to his brother's side, when he felt a strange sensation spread through his body.

Animals started to scream in a unison, causing Chase to whirl around. The feeling in his limbs had become almost like a burning within the few seconds.

The ground shook beneath his feet, and Chase stepped back in alarm as he feared an earthquake. However, the shaking stopped, and a brilliant golden flash speared the air closer than any light had ever come to him.

The light faded, and Chase blinked to regain his sight. Multiple people from the crowd gasped in awe while Conor gaped at him in astonishment.

Chase turned toward the space where the light had emitted, and saw what the fuss was about. It certainly wasn't the fact that Devin hadn't called a spirit animal.

It was the animal that stood placidly a few paces away.

There was a stunned silence.

Now Chase has seen many deer as spirit animals in his lifetime, some white, some regular. But none as stunning as the animal standing before him.

None had ever been black.

He had never seen a wild reindeer before - as they weren't native to Eura - but this one was within reaching distance. And it was huge! Chase's throat closed up. Where had it come from?

The reindeer lifted its head and walked elegantly forward, its large hooves revealing deadly tips with each step. Bright golden eyes glimmered in the sunlight.

A black reindeer? With golden eyes?

In the history of their world, only one reindeer looked as such.

Chase let his eyes drift toward the Euran flag, hanging up at the Earl's grandstand, where Milja the Reindeer and Briggan the Wolf - patron beasts of Eura - were imprinted in a dark blue fabric.

The reindeer stalked forward leisurely, coming to a halt once it was a few inches away. It blinked calmly, eyes locked with Chase's. The head of the beast came up to his shoulders, with antlers towering above his head, and the young boy tried not to show fear. An encounter with any predator in the wild would have caused him to fight, but he knew nothing of reindeer, and this one had come out of nowhere!

The reindeer watched him curiously, as though inspecting prey. Chase saw it take in his muscular form and tanned skin before it once again stepped closer and let its antlers touch his chest.

Upon contact, Chase experienced a jolt unlike any before. It was a bit like a static shock, but more intense. It most certainly wasn't pleasant, but it ceased the burning he was currently feeling in his chest.

For a brief second, Chase's hearing increased. He felt smart, cunning, like he could do absolutely anything he wanted without a care in the world. Every breath in the crowd was heard by him, and he could hear the breathing of the earl and his family up on the grandstand. Considering the reindeer before him, he saw that it was a female, and she thought of him as her equal.

And then it was over.

Chase was stunned. Never in his life had he been so shocked. He had called a spirit animal.

But this was no ordinary spirit animal. This was a black reindeer, and nobody could summon black reindeer because Milja was a black reindeer and a Great Beast. Spirit animals simply weren't the same species as Great Beasts.

Yet here she was, a female black reindeer with striking golden eyes, rubbing against him like a puppy begging for attention. As he returned to his seat, Chase felt a sense of pride overcome him.

"Conor, son of Fenray, come forward." The words were shaky.

Chase jerked his head up at the words. He had been so focused on his reindeer that he forgot that Conor was going to sip the Nectar too.

"Receive the Nectar of Ninani."

Conor took a tentative sip of the liquid, and Chase gasped.

Animals began to cry out. The birds shrilled. The wildcats yowled. The bear roared. The moose trumpeted. The camel snorted and stomped. Everything was as loud as it had been when the tiger appeared.

The ground began to tremble. The sky darkened, as if a swift cloud had overtaken the sun.

Onlookers gasped and murmured. Chase included. He glanced at his reindeer with awe, and she stared back at him with a sincerity he had never seen before in an animal.

Standing in front of Conor was yet another impossible beast - a wolf. Huge, with its head held high, it stared at Chase's younger twin with respect. It had long legs, and looked plump and healthy with a sleek gray-white coat. Dark blue eyes turned to Chase and his reindeer for a split second, and the boy gasped.

A wolf with cobalt eyes?

Once again, his eyes went to the flag draped over the grandstand, and instead of looking at Milja's imprint, his gaze went to Briggan's. The huge wolf symbol caused him to shudder. Was it a coincidence? A wolf and a reindeer?

He watched Conor hold out his shaking hand toward the animal. He looked to be terrified, and Chase understood why. Wolves were a sheepherder's greatest enemy, and now one was - by some incredible miracle - his spirit animal. The wolf nuzzled Conor's palm as the crowd kept silent.

The mystery Greencloak approached and took one of both twins' hands. "I am Tarik," he said in a low voice. "I came a long way to find you. Stay near me, and I will let no harm befall you. I won't press you to take our vows until you're ready, but you need to hear me out. Much depends on both of you."

Conor and Chase nodded numbly. It was all too much to digest.

The foreign Greencloak raised both hands high and spoke in a powerful voice. "Good people of Trunswick! News of this day will echo across all of Erdas! In our hour of need, Briggan and Milja have returned!"


	2. Chapter 2 - Uraza and Khali

Staying low to the ground, following his little sister, Azibo stalked through the tall, savanna grass. He moved steadily, spear in hand, and watched Abeke step carefully as their father had taught her. Both advanced in silence. He knew that sudden sounds would send the prey ahead running, and if it got away, the time wouldn't allow for them to approach another.

The antelope bent its head to take a small bite of the grass. Azibo noted how young it was and looked at his sister, taking in her small frame. The animal could outrun her if it startled, and then they would come back to the village empty-handed.

He came to a stand-still beside Abeke, watching her ease an arrow into the string of her favorite bow. She pulled back, and it creaked. Azibo tensed and readied his spear as the antelope looked up sharply. Abeke's weapon flew straight, the arrow skewering the heart and lungs. The animal didn't even stagger - it just fell.

This hooved animal was much-needed in the twins' village. A drought had made food hard to find, and every morsel counted since said drought made no sign of relenting. Azibo knelt down beside his little sister as she spoke in a soft voice.

"We're sorry for taking your life, friend. Our village needs your meat. We got in close and made a clean shot so you wouldn't suffer. Please forgive us."

Azibo smiled at Abeke and her kind, gentle words.

He noticed his sister glance at the sky and saw worry written on her face. He understood: the sun had moved more than they had realized. They had stalked their prey longer than they anticipated. Luckily, though, their prey was small enough to carry, and as it was truly Abeke's catch, she would carry it back. Azibo knew that the plan was risky - girls didn't hunt in this village and Abeke would avoid trouble if he carried it. But she wouldn't allow that, as it had always been her goal to prove that girls could hunt and fight just as well as boys could.

All around him the baked, brown plain was rippling with heat. Shrubs were withered and crisped with thirst. The only living thing seen for miles seemed to be a few lonely baobab trees with splayed branches, blurred by the shimmering heat waves that rose up from the ground.

Azibo walked behind his sister, eyes and ears open and his spear clutched to his chest. Though people were not really the choice of prey for the wild cats, that became less certain when food was low. And besides, big cats were not the only predators roaming these plains. Anyone - man, woman or child - took a risk when they ventured beyond the village fencing.

The farther they walked, the more Azibo could see his sister struggling with the growing weight of the dead antelope. He wanted to help her - as a good big brother would do - but he knew she wouldn't appreciate it. Abeke was tall for her age, and was strong like he was. He knew she was dying to show their prize to their father.

Yes, a perfect way to celebrate their eleventh nameday.

Their older sister, Soama, might have been more beautiful. She could sing and dance better. She could weave better. She was even a more gifted artisan,

But she had never made a kill. In his defense, neither had Azibo.

Just a little over a year ago, on her eleventh nameday, Soama had presented to the village a beaded tapestry that depicted herons flying over a pond. There had been many remarks that it had been the most impressive piece of art they had seen from such a young girl. But they could not eat it in a famine. The beaded pond would not cure their thirst in their mouths. The fake herons had no way to ease the hunger pangs.

To avoid being spotted by the lookouts, the twins approached their village stealthily. They entered through the damaged slats isn't the side of the wall- the same way they had left earlier in the day. It was a tricky climb, but Azibo helped Abeke over by taking a hold of the antelope while she heaved herself up next to him.

Their time was short. The twins hurried to their home, informing the stares from their neighbors. Similar to the other homes of the village, theirs had a round stone base and a cone-shaped roof. When they burst inside, Azibo was met with Soama waiting, looking absolutely stunning in her beaded scarf and orange wrap. Abeke wasn't bad-looking, but everyone knew that Soama had won the battle for beauty long ago. To her and himself, practical clothing sufficed, with nothing hanging loose.

"Abeke! Azibo!" Soama said. "Where have you been? Does Father know you're back?"

"We went out hunting." Abeke explained proudly, the antelope still resting on her shoulders. "Alone."

"You went outside? Past the gate?"

"Where else would I get an antelope? And besides, I had Azibo with me."

Soama put one of her hands over her eyes. "Abeke, why must you be so strange? You both vanished. Father was worried! You're late for your bonding ritual." She paused. "In any case, Azibo is a male. He has the right to leave."

"It'll be alright." Abeke assured their sister. "We'll hurry. Neither of us is as fussy as you. Nobody will complain once they see my fine kill."

Beside Azibo, the door to their home opened. He turned his head to watch his father - shaved head and all - shoulder his way inside. There was an unfriendly glare behind his pupil. "Abeke! Chi we told me you and your brother had returned. I was preparing a group to go search for the two of you."

"I wanted to offer a fine Nameday gift." Abeke told him. "Azibo helped me bring home this antelope."

With heavy breath, Azibo watched their father close his eyes. His tone was shaking. "Abeke. Today is important. You are late. You are covered in dust and blood. Your disappearance has put the entire village in uproar. Have  
you no sense? Have you no dignity?"

Azibo winced as he saw Abeke slump her shoulders, her joy evaporating. He watched her open her mouth, trying to find a reply. Tears welled up in her eyes. "But . . . I came to no harm. Azibo - a Male - was with me. You know how well I hunt. This was a surprise."

Their father shook his head. "This was selfishness. Wrongheadedness. You cannot offer the antelope as your Nameday gift! It is evidence of your misbehavior. What would it say about you? About us? What lesson will it teach the other girls? Azibo will take the kill. You will offer the jar you made."

Azibo surged to his feet. "But did I not make the kill!" He cried. "I am no hunter - I'm an artist! The painting I spent yesterday on is what I want to offer!"

"And the jar is ugly!" Abeke added with a desperate note to her voice. "An ape could make a better one. I have no talent there."

"You make no effort there," their father said to Abeke. "Returning alive with a kill shows skill, but it also shows poor judgement. We will discuss your punishment later. Make yourself ready. I will go tell the others that we will have your bonding ritual after all. Let Soama help you. If you would look to her example or even your twin's, you would disgrace us less."

Abeke looked dejected. "Yes, Father."

He sighed before turning to Azibo. "And _you_ are a man. A kill such as this would provide good reputation and might even move you toward becoming chief of this village. Art won't get you anywhere as a male." His eyes hardened. "Take the antelope and get ready as well. I will not punish you because you had the right to leave the village."

Once their father had left, Azibo watched as Abeke unslung the antelope from her body and set it down, before pushing it with her foot toward Azibo. He examined his sister closely and saw the dust from the savannah covering her skin along with the blood. He watched her roughly turn from the kill as though ashamed.

Azibo prodded the fine kill with his foot, unsure. The village knew he wasn't a hunter. Would they really believe he had shot this animal so cleanly? To him, it truly didn't matter. It was his day. Today, he and Abeke would drink the Nectar of Ninani. He would probably fail to call an animal, but he became a man today. A true warrior of the village. He had wanted to contribute his special gift, but he was stuck stealing his sister's glory.

He loved his father, but really wished that his mother were there. Their mother had understood the differences between Abeke and Azibo. But her strength had failed in a time of sickness. She would never be there again.

Finally tearing his eyes from the kill, Azibo leaned against the wall and started to wash with a damp rag, keenly aware of the weeping Abeke had started.

"No time for that." Soama said sternly. "You're both late, and you, Abeke, look bad enough already."

Azibo finished washing the dust from his face and then went to go change his clothes into something more practical. When he returned, his sister was standing at the door, the jar she had made held in her hands. With a sigh, the young boy heaved the antelope onto his shoulders, testing the weight, before heading out the door.

He emerged first - as he was the elder of the two and he was a male. As soon as the sun hit his face, he found his whole village waiting. The village he would most likely lead one day. As it was his day, he knew this would happen, but the disappointed eyes trained on his sister did not help to raise his spirits. He had looked forward to this, and knew Abeke had as well. It had been fun to do it for the others of their village. But at this point, he was anything but happy.

Their father watched them sternly - as did the other men of the village. But once again, those glares were directed at Abeke. Azibo received only looks of admiration from women, some actually held affection. Some younger boys marveled at 'his' kill.

Azibo walked forward, feeling terrible for Abeke. He wished he could divert the stares from her, but he instead clung tighter to the dead antelope and held his head high. He felt the dust of the plains sprinkle his face, but his expression did not change. His eyes remained forward.

He followed the winding path of villagers, heading for the end of the trail where Chinwe stood. Azibo watched the chief greencloak oversee their approach, and even from his position, the boy could see the green cloak she had draped over one shoulder, and the mark of her spirit animal - a wildebeest - on her leg.

As the twins approached, Chinwe started to chant. Eh I'd them, Azibo heard the villagers fall into the song as well. The words were foreign to him - as they were to most - but tradition called for these words.

When he reached Chinwe, Azibo set down the kill before her and knelt. His rough skin hardly scraped against the hot, flaky earth as Abeke assumed the same position beside him. Chinwe - while chanting - dipped the small bowl she held into a large container beside her before walking over to Azibo. Her eyes held a blank expression - as though she didn't expect anything from the boy who might lead this tribe one day.

She offered him the bowl and Azibo took it carefully. He held it to his lips and drank what little had gathered at the bottom. It tasted hauntingly familiar to the dish his mother had made for him - a special heated soup made with zebra meat and dried grass stalks. It had a sweet tang to it, and was unnaturally thick, but otherwise exactly the same. He swallowed quickly and handed the bowl back.

Chinwe took the bowl and looked down at him, smiling curiously and still chanting.

Azibo felt sick, almost light-headed and weak. This reaction shocked him greatly - as he knew this was not normal. His senses felt clogged - as though he were underwater. The world blurred around him, and sounds became distant, muted, even hollow. He could hear nothing but a deep rush, all around him.

The ground shook beneath his knees - like an earthquake. The chanting cut off as everyone struggled to find something to hold on to. Azibo had only once seen an animal called, five years ago when Hano - grandnephew of the former Rain Dancer - had held his ceremony. There had been no shaking then, just a warm light before the anteater appeared.

The light that speared the air now was not warm. It was electric, a column of pure lightning blazed down from the sky, lighting up the entire village with its magnificence. People screamed. And when the lightning flickered away, a hippo was left standing before the people.

Azibo was tingling from head to toe as he stared, awestruck. The hippo was huge, roughly the size of an elephant. Her hide was thick and armored, adding extra bulk to the animal. Azibo has seen hippos in the wild before, but none had ever been so close.

The village was silent.

Rather ungracefully, the hippo ambled toward Azibo with huge steps, her black eyes glimmering, and touched her snout to his head. With that shocking touch, the tingling Azibo felt ceased.

Azibo leaned into the touch, on instinct. The boy knew that hippos were deadly to people, but this one had made no move to attack him yet and had actually displayed affection with the single contact. He felt suddenly confined in the small village. Could he smash the walls and run? What if he attacked the people and left? He felt there were so many things he could do - so many creative ways to leave. He wanted to run, swim in a nice, cool lake.

The hippo nuzzled against Azibo's head and returned him from his visions. He stood tall, amazed. The animal next to him could eat him alive.

Azibo turned to Abeke, shocked, and saw her sip the Nectar as well. The taste must have been familiar to her, because tears welled up.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. Azibo gasped, baffled, when his hippo stepped in front of him to shield the blast. Another column of light blazed down - this one near Abeke - and when it vanished, he was amazed to see a leopard had remained.

The leopard was huge and muscular, almost the size of a lion. Her shimmering hide was a flawless mess of spots. Out in the wild, standing this close to such a cat would have been the last thing anyone in this village ever did.

Nobody spoke.

Muscles churning under her pelt, the great leopard walked to Abeke with liquid grace, and nuzzled her leg. At the contact, Abeke seemed to relax for a split second before tensing again.

The leopard rubbed against her hip and brought her back from the world she disappeared to. Abeke straightened and glanced sideways at Azibo, mouth open. He could only stare back at her.

"It looks like Uraza and Khali," a child said, breaking the tense silence.

These words started a wave of whispers. The hippo stepped over Azibo so that she was behind him, and, as he turned to inspect her like he would prey, he saw that she did look like Khali. Her silver armor, and those Vanta-black eyes, darker than the night sky. But . . . it wasn't possible. Nobody summoned hippos. Rhinos, perhaps, but never hippos or elephants. And not hippos with black eyes.

The leopard stepped a few paces away from Abeke, almost as if bored, but then looked back. Azibo realized that cat did look like Uraza! She even had those mythical violet eyes. But once again, that was impossible. People didn't summon leopards. Cheetahs maybe, but never leopards or lions, let alone leopards with violet eyes.  
Thunder crashed overhead, and rain began to fall onto the village. What started lightly soon became a harsh storm, soaking Azibo. People tilted their heads skyward, mouths open, arms extended. The crowd offered up laughter and joyful exclamations. A hand gripped his wrist. It was Chinwe. She wore a rare smile. "I believe we have found our new Rain Dancers."

Azibo knew that the old Rain Dancer had died almost two years ago. The village had not had rain since then. He had watched many storms come close, but none had ever released onto the village.

"Rain Dancers?" Abeke seemed amazed.

"It would be difficult to argue against it." Chinwe told them.

Their father approached, glancing at the animals cautiously. "We should get indoors."

Azibo traced his outline through the downpour. "This is incredible."

"Can you believe this?" Abeke asked their father.

"Truly, I cannot." His voice was blank, as though he were in another world.

"Your children have ended our drought," Chinwe spoke quietly.

"So it would appear."

"And they have summoned a hippo and leopard. Perhaps _the_ hippo and leopard."

"The lost guardians of Nilo." Their father nodded tensely. "What does this mean, Chinwe?"

"I don't know." Chinwe lowered her head. "It goes against . . . I'll have to consult someone who sees more deeply."

Their father considered the animals. "Are they safe?"

Chinwe made a shrugging movement with her shoulders. "As safe as any wild things can be. They're their spirit animals."

Their father inspected Abeke and Azibo, rain splattering his shiny head. "The rain is making up for lost time. Come."

Sliding after his father, Azibo tilted his head and tried to understand as to why their father wasn't happy. "What is it?" He asked.

"Are you disappointed?" Abeke ventured.

He stopped and turned to them, gripping each shoulder, not taking notice of the rain. "I am confounded." He said sternly. "I should be happy that you summoned animals. But you have called a hippo and a leopard! And not just any hippo and leopard - those that resemble our legendary guardians. In good ways and bad, you both have always been different. And now this tops all of it! Will your beasts bring good or evil upon you? Upon us? I don't know what to think."

Abeke's leopard let out a low growl - one that wasn't pleased. The hippo snorted in annoyance and moved closer to Azibo. Their father turned and headed toward their home. The hippo followed slowly behind, with the leopard bringing up the rear. Upon reaching the door, Azibo caught a glimpse of the stranger waiting. It was a man with Euran clothing - tall boots, trousers, and a nice-looking blue cloak, hood raised over his head to shield the rain. It also hid his face from view.

Their father stopped close to the newcomer. "Who are you?"

In an enthusiastic tone, the man responded, "I'm called Zerif. I journeyed here from afar. Your son and daughter have accomplished the impossible, as was foretold weeks ago by Yumaris the Inscrutable, one of the wisest women in all of Erdas. What happened today will reshape the world. I'm here to help."

"Then enter." Their father said. "I am Pojalo."

The four of them entered the home. The leopard and the hippo followed - the hippo having some difficulty.

Soama was waiting for the, her outfit mostly dry. She seemed to have hurried inside. "There they are." She said, her wary eyes on the hippo and leopard. "Am I dreaming?"

"Isn't she amazing?" Abeke asked as she watched the leopard sniff the room briefly before crouching beside her. Azibo's sister stooped to stroke the animal's wet fur. He himself ran his brown hand over the rough armor of the hippo.

"I don't feel safe," Soama whispered, looking to Pojalo for help. "Must they be indoors with us?"

Azibo glared at her. "She's my spirit animal."

"She belongs with me." Abeke added.

The newcomer pulled his hood back, revealing a middle-aged man with warm brown skin and a beard sculpted neatly on the end of his chin. "Perhaps I can help. This must all feel confusing. When you awoke today, Abeke, Azibo, you could not have expected to alter the world's destiny."

"Where are you from, Zerif?" Pojalo asked, curiously.

"A traveler like me hails from all corners," Zerif reaponded lightly.

"Are you a Greencloak?" Abeke asked, glancing at the blue cloak and then at Azibo.

"I am one of the Marked, but I do not wear the green cloak. I'm affiliated with them, but I concentrate on matters relating to the Great Beasts. Have you heard talk of the battles in southern Nilo?"

"Only rumors," Pojalo said. "Foreign invaders. Our concerns of late have involved water and food."

"These rumors are the groans of a dam about to burst," Zerif said. "War will soon overtake not only all of Nilo, but all of Erdas. The Fallen Beasts are returning. Your daughter and son summoned two of them. This places them at the center of the conflict."

Pojalo turned toward the leopard and hippo with alarm lighting his eyes. "We thought they looked like . . ."

"Not just looks like," Zerif amended. "Abeke has summoned Uraza. And Azibo has called Khali."

"How . . . ?" Soama murmured, her eyes wide and terrified.

"How is unanswerable," Zerif sighed. "What they do now is the only question. I offer my assistance. You must act swiftly. This leopard and hippo will earn Abeke and Azibo many enemies."

"What do you suggest?" Pojalo demanded firmly. "Abeke is our new Rain Dancer, and is much needed. Azibo might soon be our new leader."

"Their power," Zerif stated somberly, "will bring much more than rain and leadership."

Azibo growled. This newcomer Zerif clearly had plans for the both of them, and their father seemed ready to hear him out. Did he want to be rid of them? Would he act so eager if Soama had summoned this leopard and hippo?

Zerif rubbed his facial hair with two fingers. "We have much to do. First things first - you may have noticed that Uraza appears edgy. I suggest you either give the leopard the dead antelope, or else separate them."


End file.
